Much More Important
by pjjammjamm
Summary: A series of moments, preDH, where the trio and several of the characters surrounding them realize the importance of friendship and love. Each chapter seems like a oneshot, a brief look into the trio from that characters POV Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

AN- Written pre-DH! This is just going to be some random moments that seemed like good times to write about to explain the unexplainable relationship between the three members of the trio. I have the first three done, and will try to update quickly. This will probably have about five moments in all, depending on how you, the reads, react. So do me and yourselves a favor and REVIEW! 

Disclaimer-

My only cash comes from babysitting,

Which I have to do, when I could be sitting,

At home writing up new fics

I don't just write these things for kicks!

I'm not paid in money, and all I ask of you

Is that after you read, you kindly review.

Ron sighed for what seemed to him like the millionth time as he watched his mother putt about the small kitchen in silence. Every once in a while he would catch a word or two of the many she was muttering under her breath while cleaning the remaining mess left behind from her oldest son's marriage earlier that day.

From what he could make of her ramblings, she was wondering to herself how her first three sons could have been so successful at both school and life, while her younger three were all Hogwarts dropouts. Frowning, Ron let her carry on for a while about the injustice of it all before finally saying, "I take it you don't like the idea?"

"Ronald Weasley, you will not go chasing after some far-fetched idea as your brothers did. They only managed to do so well because of luck and help. You can't just quit school to go off chasing fantasies that may never come true!"

"MUM!" Ron gasped, appalled that she could even think he would leave school for such a simple reason. He wouldn't be doing this if it didn't have to be done. "How could you even think I would do that? Do you honestly think that I'm stupid enough to believe that I could make it in the real world by myself?"

"Well, if you're dropping out of school, I shouldn't have to answer that question!" Molly Weasley was irate, and normally Ron would know that now would be a good time to back off. Normally, however, the problem wasn't such a big issue, and Ron wasn't about to back down on this one without a fight, as much as he might just want to agree with his mother and return to the semi-safety and normality that came with Hogwarts.

But it wouldn't be worth it to return to school without Hermione there to nag him to study. It wouldn't be worth it without Harry there to make the year interesting and laugh at Hermione with him.

And suddenly returning to Hogwarts seemed even less appealing.

But just as Ron opened his mouth to once again argue, a his exhausted father appeared in the fireplace, then walked slowly towards the table. He had been at his son's wedding only to be called away in the middle of the reception to take care of another attack.

At the sight of his father's tired face, and the horror he felt when learning that several dozen people had died in that day's attack, Ron determination only rose.

Sensing the thick tension in the room, and perhaps hearing his wife's irritated mutterings, Ron's father asked him what was happening. Before Ron could get a word in edgewise, his mother snapped,

"Ronald's been talking about not returning to Hogwarts for his last year of school." In satisfaction, she watched as her husband reacted just as she had to the news; with anger.

"You mean, Ron's been looking into dropping out of school?"

"It wouldn't really be dropping out-" Ron tried to argue. Unfortunately, his mother fought this by saying,

"Oh, then what would you call leaving school before graduation to enter the real world?" She asked bitterly, a stormy look on her face. Ron clenched his fists in anger and opened his mouth to give an angry retort when Fred and George flooed in from the fireplace, dusting themselves off as they surveyed the scene in the kitchen.

"Going into business, following your dreams and growing up, that's what we call it." Fred answered hotly, a scowl automatically on his face. "Honestly, mum, it's been a year. I thought we'd gotten past this."

"Oh, this has nothing to do with you two." Ron's mum said, placing her hands on her hips in an intimidating fashion.

"So mind your own business." Ron added, proud of himself for getting a word in until George threw his own words back at him.

"At least we have a business to mind! Are you the son dropping out of Hogwarts she was talking about?"

"Of course he is." Fred muttered to his twin, interrupting him mid-speech. "He's the only son in Hogwarts that she has left." Both of them grinned at each other in some sort of private joke before Fred continued where his twin had left off, asking, "And what store are you going to run once you get out of school, little Ronnikens? There are only so many chess sets you can sell."

"This is much more important than chess!" Ron argued, nearly yelling. At this point, he was pretty sure his stubby fingernails were nearly making his palms bleed with how hard he was pushing them into his skin, but it was the only thing keeping him from completely losing his control. If he wanted to be treated like an adult, than he'd have to act like one. "And it's much more important than your stupid prank shop!"

"Why Fred," George began, looking at his twin in mock-horror. "I believe our little brother is claiming that he has something to do that is worth more than our pride and joy!"

"It does sound that way, doesn't it George? They just grow up too fast, they do." Fred replied, then turned to face Ron with an amused expression. "No offense is meant by this, baby brother, but what could you possibly have to do that is more important than school and our business?" His brother's tone was mocking, but Ron noticed that his mother hadn't said anything yet. She and his father both were waiting for his answer, anticipating it as much as the twins were. Through all of the tension and stress in the room, Hermione and Harry poked their heads through the door.

"Is everything all right in here?" Harry asked, his voice mild. "We thought we heard yelling." It wasn't until later that Fred and George noticed that no one had been yelling, and Harry and Hermione had appeared at the perfect time. They had probably been waiting outside the door the entire time, Ron thought affectionately, waiting to see if he would do all right talking to his parents on his own.

"Everything's fine. I'm ready to get going, are you two?" Somehow, Fred and George felt like they were almost missing a part of the conversation. It was almost like the trio could talk between each other without actually saying anything, and absently Molly Weasley wondered at how the bond between her youngest son and his two best friends was past even the point of a husband and wife bond, or the telepathic bond twins seemed to share. Her Ron and the two children he had befriended and she had basically adopted as her own were closer than words could explain.

"We're nearly ready." Hermione answered for them, smiling softly. "Just give us a few minutes."

Ron knew that those were a few minutes his friends were giving him to say goodbye privately and he smiled gratefully, nodding. Both of his friends disappeared once again and the kitchen was silent for moments afterward.

Finally, Ron broke the silence by turning to his mother and saying, "I know you aren't happy with this, and I'm sorry, but it's something that has to be done. Harry has to finish this." The words, "and I need to be with him" didn't need to be said, because they were already understood. "I know that I need to graduate, but...some things are just much more important."

Ron hugged his crying parents and joined his friends, who were waiting for him.

As much as Molly Weasley wanted to hold him back, she knew that her youngest son had a large part in the war that was being waged all around them. She watched him leave with Harry and Hermione, and knew as soon as she saw the look of relief on the young savior of the wizarding world's face that her son was right. Some things were just much more important.


	2. Chapter 2

As she tried to answer all of the questions being fired at her, Hermione wondered again what she was doing sitting in a hospital bed with journalists from several different wizarding radio stations and newspaper's all around the world.

It had been five months since Dumbledore's death, two months since school had begun with them in it, and a week since a massive and poisonous snake had bitten her. Nagini hadn't been easy to track, and she'd been even harder to kill, but to Hermione this was the hardest part; waiting in the hospital bed, unable to do much more than lay there and answer questions.

She'd awoken for the first time earlier that morning, and had only agreed to speak to the reporters because Harry had asked her to. It was important, he explained, that the people knew that she, Ron, and Harry were doing all they could to ed Voldemort's life, and she knew that.

That didn't mean she had to like this.

She had taken the bite that had been meant for Ron so that Ron could guard Harry long enough for Harry to say when needed to be said to destroy the snake, and the part of Voldemort's soul inside of it. Harry's ability to speak Parseltounge had once again been useful as he had managed to destroy Voldemort's snake and the soul inside of it, but she had only seen a bright golden flame encase the carcass of Nagini before she had passed out from the poison running through her bloodstream.

"And you say that you, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley are currently finishing a project that Dumbledore started to ensure the safety of the public, but you can't tell us what you're doing or why you're doing it?" A rude blonde reporter asked from her right.

"We can't tell you what we're doing because if we did, Voldemort would be aware that we were doing it." Hermione tried to explain, as the woman's loud and squeaky voice grated on her nerves almost as much as the question had.

"Is Harry Potter for or against the ministry?"

A loud and amused snort came from behind the small gathering of reporters as Ron entered the room, carrying a mug of coffee with him. "If Harry were against the ministry, you'd know about it. But at the moment I don't think he's very happy with several of the ministry's ideals." He replied, feeding them a line Hermione was sure Harry had asked him to say. Ron just didn't talk like that, even to reporters, and Harry would never come in front of a crowd like this himself unless he had to.

A small amount of the reporters circling Hermione's bedside moved to surround Ron instead, and as he made himself comfortable on one of the two chairs beside her bed several questions were fired his way at once.

Hermione watched as Ron pretended that the various reporters surrounding him weren't even there, a small smile on her face. A few years ago, Ron would've been giving their secrets away left and right just to remain in the spotlight for a little longer. Now, it appeared, he wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

She supposed that that's what being famous did to you.

As the reporters floated away for a small teatime break, Ron asked, "How're you holding up?"

" I'm still living, I suppose." She replied dryly. The phrase, I'm still alive' had never been more true before, she supposed. She had, after being bitten, come very close to dying, and had it not been for Harry's limited muggle knowledge of how to remove poison from one's body, she would now be dead.

"Yeah, I know. Harry's hiding somewhere nearby, but I doubt he'll come out anytime soon. Those reporters know that you're confined to the hospital beds for a while, and they're planning on taking advantage of it. He says to just play it cool, relax, and try to make it look like we've really screwed him over this time." Hermione smiled at Ron, reassuring him that she was fine for now. Ron hadn't been able to say Voldemort's name yet, but he had stopped referring to him as you-know-who' after Hermione and Harry had always replied with "No, actually, we don't."

"Does he seem like he's doing okay?" She asked, concerned. Whenever she or Ron got hurt and Harry didn't, he took it worse than they did. It seemed like he continually blamed himself for any injuries they obtained, and the reporters only made it worse.

"Yeah, I think so. He's really worried about you, of course, but he told me just after we got you in here that while he was hissing with Nagini, she gave him a clue about where the next one may be."

"You mean the next Horcrux? Which one?" Hermione asked, awed. If they already had an idea of where to find the next one, then maybe they could destroy it within a few months. Figuring out where to start was always the hardest part of it.

"The cup, I guess." Ron replied, shaking his head. "He's gone and holed himself up in books again. Sometimes I don't know which one of you is worse, I swear!" As they spoke, neither Ron nor Hermione noted the beetle that was carefully hidden in the sheets of the unoccupied bed next to Hermione's. They spoke of where it could be hidden, how they could destroy it, and what they would have to go through to get to it, and Rita Skeeter mentally wrote the entire conversation down.

"Which library has he gone to?" Hermione asked.

"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place again." Ron replied, setting his empty coffee mug down and putting his elbows on the side table, then resting his head in his hands. "It's always so difficult for him to go back there, but most of the books in there are about Dark magic, so it was really the best place to start."

Hermione nodded, thinking to herself, while inwardly the beetle did a little victory dance. Harry Potter reading about dark magic? That information alone was enough to make front page!

"Has he checked the Hogwarts library?" Hermione asked.

"Not yet." Ron replied, slouching down in his seat. "He's bound to soon though. It's been a while since he's visited Ginny, and I know she's dying to talk to him again."

"Didn't they break up?" Hermione asked, sounding not only curious but also slightly annoyed. If Ginny and Harry weren't going to be a couple, then they shouldn't be so cuddly together in her opinion.

"Yeah, but I think it might just be temporary. You know how Harry can be…I think he's just too afraid of her getting hurt because of her relationship with him, and I'm pretty sure she understands."

They continued in this matter for quite a while, Ron taking the time to catch Hermione on up on all that she had missed. Eventually, the reporters flooded back in and once again the two members of the trio were very careful in what they divulged to the press.

Several hours later, a large and beautiful white owl caught they attention of a reporter by flying up to the windowsill and waiting to be let in. Hermione read the letter attached to Hedwig, then passed the note to Ron. From the angle the redhead was reading the note, the beetle could read the note as well. It simply said

_**I've found it. I haven't slept for four days, and I think I'm cross-eyed, but I think I know where it's hidden and how to get there. If you can, please come immediately. I could use Hermione's input. I wouldn't normally ask it of you, but it's important.**_

The letter wasn't signed, and it wouldn't have made much sense to anyone else, but to Ron, who burned the letter, Hermione, who quickly rose from the bed and gathered her things, and Rita, who concealed herself even better to avoid being seen, the message was easily understood.

"Ms. Granger, I'm sorry, but we ask that you remain at least for the night so that we can continue to take care of you. You aren't fully healed yet, and it's not a good idea to strain yourself. This point in your healing is critical." Hermione almost felt bad for the nurse, who could possibly lose her job over this, but she really didn't have the time to consider staying. Not when it was so important that she leave.

"I'm sorry, miss, that you could be fired for what I'm about to do. But I know to take my potions, and I heal quickly anyways. I have to leave, _**now**_. This is just so much more important." The emotion and kindness in Hermione's voice was enough to stop the mediwitch from pestering her further, and the reporters watched without moving as Ron and Hermione apperated quickly away.

"But…aren't there anti-apperation wards surrounding Mungos?" One reporter asked from the back of the crowd. Faintly, the nurse nodded at the question and shook her head in disbelief. If those two were powerful enough to easily go through the wards, then maybe there was more to them than anyone had originally thought. There had to be a reason, after all, that they were Harry Potter's best friends.

Later that night, Rita Skeeter was in her element. For once, she didn't need to elaborate very much on all that she had heard, because this story was already good. It told the public about Harry Potter's romantic interest, and what the trio was up to, and what Harry Potter's views were on several matters. It talked about the full reason that that nosy, bossy, annoying know-it-all was really in the hospital, and about what the famous trio were up to now.

The story was perfect, and would make her a big profit for sure, and yet as much as she wanted to print it, even just to get on miss-know-it-all's nerves, she couldn't. It put far too many people in danger.

Rita Skeeter sighed in resignation and poured herself another scotch as she watched the best story she had ever written be reduced to ashes and cinders. Miss-know-it-all may be annoying, but she tended to be right about nearly everything, including this. At the moment, some things were just much more important.


	3. Chapter 3

During the last several months, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had disappeared. In just disappearing as they had the trio had left a very frightened and curious public wondering about what it was they were doing to end the ongoing war.

The Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, had been in the paper more in the last year then he had in the first fifteen years of his life, with people everywhere claiming to have sighted him, claiming to know where he was.

Hermione Granger the injuries she had sustained in October had made the front page, and soon her name to appear more and more in the papers.

And because two members of the trio were famous, so was the third.

Ron Weasley had finally gotten the recognition he had always wanted, and he didn't even know it. He, Harry, and Hermione hadn't read a paper in months, because none of them wanted to know about the deaths of any loved ones. They had a job to finish, and they were so close to being done. Only one more horcrux and then Harry had to face Voldemort and destroy the last piece of his soul that was left. At this point, the trio felt like they couldn't stop, because they'd probably never be able to start again.

But there did come a point in time where Ron just wanted to sleep in his own bed, and Harry and Hermione weren't going to complain with a good, hot, and home cooked meal from Mrs. Weasley.

So in early April, the trio wearily trudged through the brush near Ron's house that they had apperated into in their exhaustion, their minds focused only on clean, dry clothes and a comfortable bed.

Mrs. Weasley welcomed them with a big hug and several large bath towels to use to dry off. When all three, even Ron, had claimed that they were too tired to eat, Mrs. Weasley led them up to separate rooms that they could use to sleep in.

The walls of his room were still orange. There was still a hole in the bedspread, and a small pile of book were still resting in the corner under an old bath robe. But Ron's room had never looked better.

Ginny was staying at Hogwarts still, the twins were in the flat above their shop, and Bill, Charlie, and Mr. Weasley were all out doing various tasks for the Order, which was now under the command of Kingsley Shacklebolt. Percy, who had made up with his family just after Christmas and had moved back in when he could no longer pay rent, and Mrs. Weasley were the only ones staying at the Burrow, and the next morning when Percy went downstairs for breakfast he was shocked to see Ron, Harry, and Hermione sitting at the kitchen table, quietly discussing something between themselves.

Ron may not have known how infamous he had become in the last several months, but Percy did. He'd read every paper that the golden trio had been featured in, and now regretted that he was on such bad terms with his brother and the savior of the wizarding world.

To Percy, this was the perfect opportunity to talk to his younger brother, fix things, and regain ground in the Ministry, where he had been demoted severely after the minister had realized that Percy and Harry hadn't been as close as he had origionally thought, and that Percy couldn't tell him anything about the Order or what Harry was up to because Percy knew no more than he did.

Briskly, Percy offered a `good morning' to his mother and then turned to Ron, Harry, and Hermione, who had stopped their conversation to look up at him.

"What's he doing here?" Ron asked, his voice harsh and quiet. Percy winced at the tone his brother had used. Maybe this wouldn't be as easy as he had thought.

"Your brother apologized just after you left, in January. He's been welcomed back by everyone else in the family, and you would've known that long before now had you accepted any of the letters we sent you." Mrs. Weasley replied tartly, more upset than angry. She had been worried constantly for her youngest son and his two best friends, and seeing them alive and eating was enough to dampen her concern to focus on her annoyance.

"Mum, you know why we couldn't let any owls near us! I mean, Voldemort could've easily followed them to us, he's tracking us as we speak." Ron replied, not moving his blue judging gaze from his older brother. "But we're sorry that we worried you. Welcome back, Percy."

"I could say the same to you, Ron." Percy replied easily, as he sat stiffly in a chair and ate some breakfast. It would be worth it to get to work late if he could get what he wanted; support for the ministry from the golden trio would be priceless. "You've been off for months."

"Yes, well, months was how long it took to do what needed to be done." Harry answered vaguely, slowly buttering a role. His sharp green eyes were making Percy feel like he was being slowly studied and torn apart, making him feel vulnerable and young. No teenager should have eyes like Harry Potter did.

Hermione Granger heaved a sigh and ran a hand through her long and tangled brown hair. When she took her head up from her hands, Percy saw that she too had haunted look to her dark brown eyes. "And we aren't anywhere near done." She murmured, her voice worn and tired.

"Maybe not, but we're closer than we were before." Harry replied, his voice gaining a commanding tone. He sat up just a little straighter in his chair, and just put his shoulders back a little farther, but the effect was startling. No longer did Percy look at the Boy-Who-Lived as a scared first year his brother had befriended, nor did he see Harry as the attention-seeking brat the papers had once made him out to be. It was only then that Percy saw how resilient and powerful Harry Potter was.

Somehow, it made him seem all the more dangerous. Now he knew he had to get Harry to back the Ministry, and the best way to do so was to get Ron's agreement. Right away, he decided that he needed to talk to Ron about the ministry's position as soon as he could get his younger brother alone.

But talking to Ron alone wasn't as easy had it had once been. Before, Ron would at least have polished his broom or raided the kitchen by himself. Now, it seemed, he Harry and Hermione did everything but sleep together, and Percy wasn't sure how to approach his brother about the matter when Ron was half asleep.

Percy finally got his chance later that night, when he was heading to bed after a very late night at work. Voldemort had attacked again, and he had been called in on his day off.

He heard hoarse whimpers and quiet cries in pain, and rushed to Ron's room to see that the door was open, and the bed was empty. He backtracked down the stairs and followed the noises until he came to the twin's room, where Harry was once again sleeping.

The scene he saw made him stop dead in the doorway. His younger brother was solemnly brushing Harry's black fringe away from the famous scar that at that moment was a sore red and badly swollen. Ron's eyes were focused on his best friend with an intensity the Percy had never seen on the normally laid-back young man's face before.

He was Ron. He was supposed to be laughing, smiling, or embarrassed. He wasn't supposed to be thinking.

Percy knew that this line of thinking was a little harsh on his part; after all, Ron had become a prefect in his fifth and sixth years, but he couldn't stop to consider this train of thought. All he could think about, at that moment, was the intense look on his brother's face.

When Ron finally noticed Percy standing by the door, he quietly rose from the edge of the bed and guided Percy out, pulling the door closed behind him. Percy, too stunned to argue, followed meekly.

"What was that?" He finally hissed as they reached Ron's room.

"What? That?" Ron replied evenly, absently picking up his room. "That's what happens whenever Voldemort does a really bad attack."

"How did you know to be there, then?" Percy asked. "The noises he was making weren't that loud."

"No, they weren't, but Voldemort's done large-scale attacks before, and that's always Harry's reaction. When you left for the ministry, all important, I knew that someone was going to need to be there for Harry tonight."

"Why you?" Percy asked, irritated. "Why not Hermione?"

Ron threw a small, empty smile Percy's way and said, "Because she did it last time." Percy gasped as Ron pulled off the old, ratty shirt he had been wearing that day and pulled on a worn cotton night shirt. His body had gained several small scars, some of the cuts fresh, a few of them years old. Ron again smiled wearily as he climbed into bed. "And if you think I'm bad, you should see Harry."

"Bu that's just it, Ron!" Percy hissed, his temper getting the better of him. The well-thought-out lecture he had originally constructed flew out the window. "If Harry would just work with the ministry, you, him and Hermione wouldn't be hurt so often. You wouldn't be in so much danger all the time, and you wouldn't have to disappear for months. You could even go back to school, and get a job. Just the adults what you know, and let us handle it!"

"No, Percy, I couldn't." Ron replied tiredly, his face weary.

"Couldn't what?"

"I couldn't return to school, because that would bring the fight there and put others in danger. I couldn't tell the adults and trust you to handle it, because I've seen how badly you lot can muck things up. And I couldn't trust Harry to anyone but myself, because no one else knows him like I do. I know what you're trying to do. You trying to make me agree to tell the ministry all about Harry and what we do, just like you tried to get Harry to tell on Dumbledore. It won't work. Harry's Dumbledore's man through and through, and I'm Harry's."

"But…but why you? Why not Hermione?" At this point, Percy wasn't asking for the ministry. He was asking because a small part of him still remembered Ron as his little brother.

Ron smiled. "Because she's Harry's woman. He needs both of us to finish what the three of us started." His eyes slowly closed, as he drifted off to sleep. "I know that this is hard for you to understand, Perce, and I'm sorry for that. You've never had a friend like Harry, and you can't understand what could be more important than school, work, and knowledge. But trust me, Percy, I know what I'm doing. I have my priorities in order." Soon after, Ron drifted off to sleep.

But Percy couldn't sleep, and tossed and turned all night, his brother's words ringing in his ears. Wasn't blood thicker than water? Ron should have stayed with his family, not gone running around with his friends.

But then, Percy had left his family for work. If friends were water, what did that make work?

Maybe Ron knew something that Percy would never know. Maybe, there was more to Harry than just an icon, just a celebrity. Maybe…maybe, for once, his younger and thicker brother was right. Maybe some things, like friendship, were much more important.


End file.
